Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“Don’t make this about me,” I say with pain in my lungs. “This is about the two of you being scared for me, when you don’t need to be.”
“Phoebe,” Jake says gently. “We have reason to be. The Alps—”
“I know,” I cut in fast, not wanting to crack open that dingy closet. I swallow a lodged lump. “I can handle Trent.”
“I can barely handle him,” Rocky confesses, bowing toward me with his hands on his thighs. He’s not touching me, but it feels like he’s reaching inside of me and fisting my heart. “You’re not taking one for the team.”
Carlsbad. What I did. It crashes into me. My eyes sting. “But you’ll take the one?” I point out as he straightens up. “And then the second, the third.”
“You’ve taken enough, Phoebe.”
“And you haven’t?” I counter.
“It’s not a competition to see who can suffer the fucking most.”
“You’re right.” I cross my arms, holding my elbows. “None of us should be suffering, but it’s kind of the consequence of scamming people. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows with pots of gold at the end.”
Rocky has his hands threaded on the back of his neck. He’s just staring at me like I’m volleying off a wall he wants to tear down.
I want to be of use, but it feels like I’m warring with myself just trying to be.
“Jake, you wanted me to handle this, didn’t you?” It’s why he believed I could be his fake girlfriend in the first place.
“I meant more for you to handle my mother, who pressured one of my girlfriends to eat dog food—this isn’t the same as that.”
God, Claudia.
I let go of my arms.
Jake rests his elbow on my makeup vanity, but he looks far from relaxed. His whole body is as tightly coiled as Rocky’s. “Can you be honest with yourself?” Jake asks me.
“I usually am.”
“Then really, would you be okay in a situation where neither of us could get to you, and you were alone with my brother? Because we wouldn’t be okay.”
I’m angry that this is even a problem we’re dealing with.
Rocky can tell, because he says, “This isn’t your fault, Phebs. This is how these fucking pea-brain men are.”
“I know,” I say hotly. “I’ve dealt with them since I hit puberty and grew tits. I get it.”
I hate it.
I want Trent to suffer. Horrible, horrible pain. Blood simmers underneath my skin, and I breathe hot breath through my nose. “We’re hoping to get dirt on Claudia and Trent, something that could ruin their reputation with the board. Get them axed. Tarnish their social standings in Victoria. Well, Trent is right there. We’ve seen it—”
“No,” Rocky cuts in.
Jake has a confused wrinkle between his brows. “What are you talking about?” he asks, then glances at Rocky, who is tunnel visioned on me.
“It’s what our parents would suggest,” I say, more to Rocky. “You can’t even deny they wouldn’t. Everett would tell me to pretend to be drunk and lie there as he tries to—”
“It’s not happening,” Rocky says so softly, in a tone meant to cradle me. “It’s not happening.”
I take short, choppy breaths, uncertain of what I feel. Because I want to say, I can do it. I’ve learned to be numb to it. I can do anything, but I’ve stopped wanting to put myself in those situations. To put Rocky in that position where he has to be on time.
Right. On. Time.
Because if he’s too late…
I squeeze my eyes shut. “It’s the easiest…” I trail off because it is the easiest way to trap Mr. Firstborn Fuckbag in his own misdeeds. But it’s also the hardest on us. “I was wrong—this isn’t a normal job. If it were the norm, one of us would record him trying to get with me. Then Trent would pay another one of us off to either clean up the mess or to keep quiet. After that, we’d be gone, and he’d still be there. Do you know how infuriating it is?” I breathe fire into my lungs. “To walk away with money that’s like pennies to them while they get to just…go on?” I let out a shrill laugh. “The sting of shame fades in time, and they’ve learned nothing.”
They’re both listening, and I can’t tell if I’m speaking to them or to the walls or to a higher power I’ve never believed in before.
But it just pours out of me. “I’ve loved what we do, not for the cash grab, but for the high of the victory. Of the retribution. But the lows are so low because we can never cut deep enough, and I’m…so…angry.” I force out the words. “I’m mad that guys like Trent think they can get away with murder, and maybe they really can. I’m mad about the Alps.” My chin tries to quake. “Because that so easily could’ve been another girl, if not me. And I just keep thinking, that girl wouldn’t have had a Rocky, and…she shouldn’t have to need one.”